


emotional wreck (i think you like me like that)

by platonics



Series: himikiyo week 2020 [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Flirting, Hair Brushing, Himikiyo Week 2020, Hurt/Comfort, Killing Game Was A Virtual Reality Simulation (Dangan Ronpa), Nonbinary Shinguji Korekiyo, Other, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scars, laying on the floor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:13:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27891325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platonics/pseuds/platonics
Summary: “And who decided that? A respected scientific body, I would hope.” They didn’t sound quite so somber anymore. Himiko could even see a hint of a smile on their face, lipstick a little smudged at the edges. The tension in their muscles seemed to have lessened too — they were leaning against her easier, letting her support them."Well, basically. I decided.”Recovery involves both good days and bad days. Korekiyo and Himiko are together through them all.
Relationships: Shinguji Korekiyo/Yumeno Himiko
Series: himikiyo week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2040634
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7
Collections: himikiyo week





	emotional wreck (i think you like me like that)

**Author's Note:**

> himikiyo week day 2: healing + hurting  
> this could be interpreted as either/both really, but more heavy on the healing!
> 
> post-game, everyone lives together in one big house because i said so

When she went to fetch some nail polish remover from the bathroom, she found Korekiyo laying on the floor. Perhaps more concerning than that in and of itself was the fact that it didn't strike Himiko as that weird. Compared to some of the other everyday chaos they dealt with around the house, it almost seemed normal. Unremarkable.

"Um, what are you doing?" she asked, arms crossed as she leaned against the doorframe. She might have really been worried if it wasn't for the fact that they were clearly conscious, watching her from behind a messy curtain of hair. One arm was tucked beneath their head, cushioning it from the cold tile. At first, she got no response but a heavy sigh, as if the answer was painfully obvious. She continued the wordless conversation with a raised eyebrow — _'really, tell me.'_

"Laying on the floor," they said dryly, only when it became clear that she wasn't going to leave. "Is there a problem with that?" Their voice dripped with sarcasm, bordering on derision. Anyone else would probably give into frustration and leave. Himiko herself probably would too if they were anyone else. Instead, she just exhaled in a soft sigh of her own. It took a lot to provoke Kiyo into being so snippy, and that was doubly true when it was her. It was all the information she needed to know that it was a Bad Day.

"No, no problem," she replied, calm as could be. "It'd be kinda gross if Kirumi didn't live here though. No one else mops this floor." Underneath their mask, she could see their lips curling into a grimace as they considered that. Not much of a reaction, but she'd consider it a victory for now. Never mind the fact that she was a total hypocrite who was known to lay on the bathroom floor now and then herself. Right now she was playing the role of concerned girlfriend.

"Seems like _you_ have a problem though," she continued gently. Stepping the rest of the way into the room, she sat down on the floor beside them.

"I don't. I'm fine."

"Why don't I believe that?" She reached in and smoothed some of the hair out of their face, fingertips lingering against their soft skin.

"Because you've learned to become annoyingly persistent." A smile now, the secret, reluctant kind that only she could decipher. They reached out their free arm to rest a hand on her thigh, thumb rubbing gentle circles into it.

"Mhm, because I'm the Kiyo whisperer. I know all your secrets, all your habits. And also, fine people usually don't lay in the bathroom, so it wasn't too hard to figure out. Now c'mon, what's wrong?" she asked softly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's nothing you need to worry about. Just... _her_ bothering me again." They closed their eyes for a moment, mentally arguing against something she couldn't hear. She hated that she couldn't do more to help. She could fight back against their sister when she directed her malice outward, but when she was nothing but a voice in their head, what could Himiko do other than support them? The cruelest part was the impossibility of knowing whether she was ever even real. Was this an echo of old trauma from the real world, or just lies Team Danganronpa implanted?

In the end, it didn't make much of a difference. They were suffering either way. Still, the not knowing bothered her, and she suspected it bothered them too. If it was real, there would be more of a justification for still hurting so much, in their mind. False memories should be easier to just get over. She hated recognizing that similarity, the way they both felt so ashamed of any weakness.

"Wish I could kill her again for you," she mumbled, resting her hand atop theirs on her thigh. Their fingers laced together, the soft, fraying edges of their bandages soft against her skin. They were unraveling a little, like Kiyo had started to take them off and then changed their mind.

"You're sweet, but I'm not sure how much that would help anyway. The memories would still be there."

"What would help then? Anything you want me to do?" Gently, she added, "Anything is possible with magic. There's no limits to what I can do."

Silence fell over the room. She waited, in no hurry to hear their answer. In the meantime, she could listen to the sound of their breathing, watch as they curled a little closer to her. Her eyes traveled to their shoulder, where their sleeve was beginning to slip down. A thin scar coiled down from beneath their mask, one of far too many. That was another mystery. If their backstory from the killing game wasn't real, it was anyone's guess where most of their scars were from. 

"Want me to redo these?" she asked eventually when no answer came. She tugged gently at their bandages to indicate what she was talking about. It took another moment or two, but they nodded.

"I was going to, but I just couldn't bring myself to take them off." It was a testament to their close relationship that they didn't add on some kind of self-deprecating comment about knowing it was ridiculous or absurd. The scars on their arms and hands made them more self-conscious than almost anything else, and they were near-constantly cold too.

"C'mon then," she said, pulling them up into a sitting position. Then, wrinkling up her nose, she ran a hand through their hair. "You've got a cobweb."

"Wh—" They pouted, picking at their bandages. "There was not a cobweb in my hair."

"There totally was. What else would you expect from the bathroom floor?" She snickered, kissing their forehead, the bridge of their nose, the corner of the zipper covering their lips. "Don't worry though, I got it out."

"Are you certain?"

"Yeah, I promise. Do you want me to brush it just to be sure? It's kind of a mess now from laying there anyway." She got up to fetch their hairbrush, not uttering a single complaint about it being tiresome. Kiyo was always an exception, the one person she'd happily do anything for. Taking care of them was easier than taking care of herself. They started to thank her when she took a seat on the floor behind them, but she just shook her head, leaning in to kiss their cheek.

"It's not a problem. Means I have an excuse to run my hands through your pretty hair." Still peeking over at their face, she grinned when she saw the beginnings of a blush forming. Hairbrush still held in one hand, the other gently tugged their mask down, brushing a kiss over their lips. "Pretty hair for a pretty girlfriend."

When she pulled back and started to run the brush through their hair, they didn't pull their mask back up. It was just the two of them anyway, so maybe it was only a small step, but it was something. On their worst days, they didn't take it off even for her.

“Pretty girlfriend, huh?” they mumbled eventually, still leaning into her. “Is that so?” She kept brushing through their hair, careful to avoid snagging any knots or tangles. There didn’t appear to be any other cobwebs either, something she’d be happy to inform them of.

“Yeah, obviously.” She swept their hair out of the way just long enough to kiss the back of their neck, delighting in the shiver that ran through them. “The prettiest. Not even magic would be enough to change that. No one could ever hope to match you.”

“And who decided that? A respected scientific body, I would hope.” They didn’t sound quite so somber anymore. Himiko could even see a hint of a smile on their face, lipstick a little smudged at the edges. The tension in their muscles seemed to have lessened too — they were leaning against her easier, letting her support them.

“Well, basically. I decided.”

"I think that might be a conflict of interest, don't you? Perhaps some bias on the part of the researcher?"

"Maybe, but that doesn't make it any less true." She'd finished brushing their hair by now, restoring it to its usual pristine, silky glory. The brush was set aside, and she draped her arms around them, hugging them from behind. Her chin leaned against their shoulder, perfect for whispering little compliments to them.

"I wouldn't be so sure. There's some competition for the title."

Her heart twisted, pained to know that they were still struggling to bring their mood back up after their sister's hateful comments. Himiko was prepared to argue the point with them, first word already halfway out when they continued.

"I think the prettiest girlfriend is sitting right behind me, actually," they said, and her sadness morphed into soft affection. "Don't you agree, my dear?"

She giggled and hugged them tighter, just closing her eyes for a moment.

"Mm, you're sweet. And your hair is cobweb-free." That elicited a quiet groan, Kiyo evidently pained at the mere reminder that that had ever not been the case. "So should we go sit somewhere more comfortable? Kokichi's totally gonna make fun of you if he finds us like this," she teased gently.

"Yes, let's."

They helped her to her feet after getting up themself, fixing her with a thoughtful expression. Then, with a sense of playfulness that had been utterly absent before, they scooped her up in their arms. A delighted little squeal escaped her throat. Being carried around by her girlfriend was always a nice treat, even if it was just down the hall. Best of all, it meant she was doing a good job of cheering them up.

She still had to help them change their bandages, but that could wait until later. Once Kiyo deposited her on their shared bed, she was far more preoccupied with tugging them down on top of her and lavishing them with kisses.

Maybe they could even do each other's nails. She never did get that nail polish remover from the bathroom.

**Author's Note:**

> you know that feeling where you're getting ready to post a fic and you keep feeling like there's a tag you're forgetting to add? yeah


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